


It's a Piece of Cake to Bake a Pretty Cake

by StardustInYourEyes



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, But it's still like 95 percent fluff, David "Dave" Katz Lives, Fluff, Klaus and Dave are best friends and in love and they have fun together!!!, M/M, Reference to child abuse because this IS the Umbrella Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardustInYourEyes/pseuds/StardustInYourEyes
Summary: Prompt: Flour fight in the kitchenKlaus and Dave's attempt at making a cake
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 20
Kudos: 38
Collections: EnKlave Fest 2021





	It's a Piece of Cake to Bake a Pretty Cake

**Author's Note:**

> As a baker, I felt an obligation to choose this prompt. Whoever submitted it, I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing it.  
> (Everyone else, I hope you like it too!)

“Vegetable oil.”

Klaus rummaged through one of the kitchen cabinets, knocking over multiple bottles in the process. “Shit,” he said under his breath.

Dave glanced up from the recipe that was laying on the kitchen island in front of him. “Everything all right, babe?”

“Just peachy.” Klaus pulled a large plastic bottle out and examined the label. “’Kay, got it.” He made a futile attempt to straighten up the devastated cabinet, but quickly gave up and simply shut the door to hide the mess. “What’s next?”

“Flour.”

Klaus opened another cabinet and got down the open bag of flour. He looked at the bag of sugar that was also on the shelf. “Do we need sugar?”

“Yeah, one and a half cups,” Dave answered.

Klaus got the sugar bag down too. “Next!”

“Baking soda.”

They continued this process for a bit, Dave reading off the ingredients and Klaus gathering them. Until-

“Vinegar.”

Klaus looked over at Dave, sure he had misheard. “What?”

“Vinegar,” Dave repeated. “One teaspoon white distilled vinegar.” 

Klaus walked over to Dave’s side to read the recipe. He rested his chin on Dave’s shoulder as he scanned the list of ingredients. “What the fuck?” he said.

“You aren’t going to taste it, there’s, like, a dozen other ingredients,” Dave pointed out.

“Yeah, and one of those ingredients is _baking soda_.” Klaus turned his head to the side to look Dave in the face. He was surprised to see that his science-loving boyfriend seemed unconcerned. “Dave. Baking soda.”

“Most cakes have baking soda.”

“Dave. Baking soda. With vinegar. The cake is going to fucking explode. It’s, like, basic chemistry.”

“The cake isn’t going to _explode_.”

“Yes it is!” Klaus argued. “When you combine baking soda with vinegar it causes a reaction. Everyone knows this!”

“’Reaction’ is not the same thing as ‘explosion’,” Dave explained patiently. “When you combine vinegar and baking soda it makes carbon dioxide.”

“And we want carbon dioxide in our cake because?”

“I think because it creates bubbles. The cake will be, like, light and fluffy. I think.”

Klaus stepped away to get the bottle of vinegar from under the sink. “I’m going to be upset if Vanya’s cake explodes and blows up the whole kitchen.” He paused to consider this. _Maybe that’d be appropriate, considering her…tendencies._

Of course, she felt guilty whenever she thought about her history of blowing things up, and he didn’t want to make her feel bad before her big recital. After all, the reason they were making the cake in the first place was to encourage her.

“It’s not going to explode,” Dave promised. “I made a volcano made out of baking soda and vinegar for a science fair in middle school, and it just bubbled up. It looked sort of like an overflowing washing machine, to be honest.”

Klaus wasn’t sure that an overflowing washing machine was much better than an explosion, but he was distracted by another part of Dave’s statement. “What the fuck is a science fair?” he demanded. “Is it like a Renaissance fair? You blow stuff up but in medieval clothing?”

A laugh escaped from Dave’s mouth. It was the one that he did every time Klaus said something funny that caught him off guard. Needless to say, Klaus heard that laugh a lot. “No! You don’t know what a science fair is?”

“Apparently not.” Klaus walked over to the island and plopped the bottle of vinegar down.

“It’s a thing they do at schools. You do some sort of science experiment, and, like, make a poster or something about it, and then you show it at the fair.” Dave absentmindedly picked up Klaus’s hand and started tracing the ‘hello’ tattoo with his thumb. “Then the principal or teacher in charge or whatever decides who gets first place.”

“Oh, so it’s a competition.” Now, _that_ Klaus could understand. He tried to think of any science competitions they had done at the Academy. “So it’s sorta like that time we were twelve and Dad put us into two groups to see who could dissect a corpse faster?”

Dave stopped his tracing and stared at Klaus. “What the fuck?” he mouthed.

“I’m going to take that as a ‘no’,” Klaus said. Dave just kept looking at Klaus with a mixture of shock and concern. “What, you never did anything like that in school?”

“We dissected a frog in bio my junior year,” he said. “But I was _sixteen_ , and it was a _frog_ , not a _human_.”

“It wasn’t a human,” Klaus corrected. “It was, like, a Great Dane.”

“Okay, but that’s only marginally better.”

Klaus just shrugged. Dave was still staring at him, and he was starting to feel uneasy.

He loved attention, and he loved to shock people, and his boyfriend was not exempt. Sometimes he’d tell Dave a fucked-up story from his childhood just to see if it’d stun him. It was almost like a little game. It had to be, because otherwise he’d have to take it seriously. And right now, with the way Dave was looking at him, it was starting to turn serious.

“I wasn’t really involved in the whole thing,” he said in a lighthearted tone, trying to bring the mood back up. “Me and Ben didn’t really have to do anything. Five was on our team, and, well, you know how he is.”

Dave gave a little nod. He knew how Five was. Five was intense and brilliant and impatient and more than a little terrifying. Dave could easily picture a small Five telling his brothers to stay out of the way and let him show off his intelligence. _Though that “small Five” is probably the same size now_.

Klaus gave a little smile as he continued his stroll down memory lane. “Ally spent the whole time rolling her eyes because Luther and Diego kept arguing over who got to hold the scalpel.”

It disturbed Dave to think about two twelve-year-olds arguing over who got to dissect a dead dog, but this memory obviously was nowhere near as traumatizing to Klaus as certain other ones, so he decided not to get into it. He simply gave Klaus’s hand a squeeze, then dropped it and turned back to the recipe.

They finished gathering the ingredients and managed to measure them all out with little incident. Dave sifted together the dry ingredients while Klaus whisked the wet ones. “We need a beater,” Dave said.

“What, you’re gonna _beat off_ right here in the kitchen?” Klaus joked as he opened a drawer. Dave snorted. “I mean, you wouldn’t be the first person in the house to do that.”

Dave raised his eyebrows. “Who was the first person? You?”

“Yeah,” Klaus said with no hint of shame. He located the handheld mixer and held it aloft. “Have you ever used one of these before? Because I sure as hell haven’t.”

Dave took the mixer from Klaus. “No, but I’ve seen my mom use it plenty of times. It shouldn’t be too hard.” He plugged it in, positioned it in the bowl, and turned it on. With a loud whirring, the mixer instantly sent flour and sugar flying into the air. Oil splashed over the side of the bowl onto the counter. “ _Shit_!” Dave frantically yanked the cord out of the outlet.

Klaus burst into laughter. “This cake is going to be an absolute _disaster_.”

“No, it’s not,” Dave said unconvincingly. He attempted to dust some flour off of his hands, but it simply landed onto his shirt. “But, uh, maybe we should try to do it by hand.”

Klaus giggled a little at that. “What, exactly, are we doing by hand?”

Dave caught on. “Shut up!” he said, laughing. “I’m talking about mixing the cake!” He put the mixer down on the counter and went to wash the flour off his hands. While he did that, Klaus looked closely at the mixer.

“Dave,” Klaus said. “Sweetie. Darling. Honey.”

“Yes?” Dave responded, drying his hands off.

Klaus pointed to a small dial at the top of the mixer that Dave hadn’t noticed. “It’s on the highest speed. That’s why everything went flying. It’s _supposed_ to be on ‘low’.”

Dave bent over to examine the mixer. “Wait, there’s more than one speed?” Klaus let out a little sigh and shook his head in disappointment. “Hey, you don’t know how to use it either!” Dave said indignantly.

“Don’t I?” Klaus plugged the mixer back in. “Watch and learn, Davey.” He turned it on, and the beaters began slowly mixing together the ingredients. Klaus maneuvered it around the bowl, making sure to cover every inch without spilling anything. “Wow, this is easy!” He sounded genuinely surprised.

“I cannot _believe_ this,” Dave said under his breath. Klaus looked over and flashed him a smile that made Dave’s heart flip.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you don’t know how to use a mixer.” Klaus teased. He turned the mixer off and set it down, then poured the batter into the cake pans. He slid them into the oven and set the timer. “And now, we wait.”

Dave leaned against the island. “What are the odds it turns out decent?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘decent’.” Klaus looked down at the messy counter. “Ugh,” he said, sweeping some spilled flour onto the floor with his hand. He glanced up and saw Dave grinning at him mischievously. Before he could say anything, Dave grabbed the still-open bag of flour and pulled it towards him. “No!” Klaus took a step back, pointing a stern finger at Dave. “No! Don’t even _think_ about it!”

“Okay, fine.” Dave let go of the bag. Klaus breathed a sigh of relief and turned to start putting dishes in the sink.

Then he felt something soft and powdery hit the back of his head.

He slowly reached a hand back to feel his head. Something that felt like dandruff flakes fell off his hair and landed onto his hands. He turned around to see Dave trying not to laugh. “David Joseph Katz!” he gasped theatrically. (Klaus was glad that, unlike him, his boyfriend had a middle name. It made it more dramatic when he decided to bring out the full name) “How _dare_ you!”

“Sorry,” Dave said, not sounding sorry at all. As if to further undermine his point, he picked up another handful of flour and threw it at Klaus. This time it landed square on his chest.

“That’s it!” Klaus lunged towards Dave. Laughing, Dave ran around to the other side of the island. Klaus grabbed some flour and flung it at Dave. Some stuck onto his right shoulder, but the rest drifted down to the floor. Grinning, Klaus picked up some more and aimed at Dave’s head. The mass soared through the air, flour particles falling down like rain. Dave covered his face with his hands, so the flour settled in his hair and coated the back of his hands.

Klaus went to get another handful, but accidentally knocked the bag over in the process, spilling its contents across the island and onto the floor. “Nooo!” he cried, arms stretching towards the fallen bag. He frantically tried to sweep some of the flour into his hand. Dave took this opportunity to reach into the open sugar bag for ammunition. A barrage of sugar hit Klaus in the left thigh. Klaus dramatically clutched his thigh, pretending as though he had been shot, causing Dave to laugh.

Klaus gave up trying to salvage the island flour, flinging over his shoulder onto the cabinets behind him, and settled for sabotage. He reached for the bag of sugar, but Dave grabbed it at the last second and stepped back. The jostling sent sugar crystals scattering onto the ground, crunching under their bare feet.

Quickly, Klaus snatched up the almost empty bag of flour. Dave hurled another handful of sugar at Klaus, half of it landing on his right forearm, the other half bouncing off the fridge door onto the floor. Klaus tried to target Dave’s stomach, but was laughing too hard to aim properly. Instead, the flour ended up splattering against the inside of the sink.

In desperation, Klaus chucked the bag of flour at Dave. It made contact with his torso and caused a flour cloud to puff up into the air. Dave coughed and waved his hand to clear the cloud away. While he was distracted, Klaus ran around the island to situate himself on the other side of it. Dave lobbed some more sugar towards Klaus, but Klaus managed to duck down behind the island and avoid it. The sugar fell with an almost silent patter onto the table.

Dave slowly crept around the island to corner Klaus. Klaus backed up, quickly forming a plan in his mind. “Is this how it ends?” he asked, trying to distract Dave. “After all we’ve been through? We were in a _war_ together, and now you’re trying to kill me.”

“Yeah, basically.”

Klaus couldn’t help but laugh at Dave’s blunt response. He took a step sideways so that he was again on the opposite side of the island as Dave. Dave flung a heaping of sugar at him, and he held up his arm to shield his eyes. When he lowered it, he saw Dave grinning at him.

“I wouldn’t be smiling if I was you,” Klaus said. “It’s not over yet.” He took another step to the side, almost at his goal.

“You’re out of ammo,” Dave pointed out. He hoisted up his still half-full bag of sugar. “I’m not.”

“Am I?” Klaus smirked. He took one more step to the side. In one swift motion, he grabbed the now in reach egg carton, opened it, and took out an egg. Before Dave could react, an egg splattered against his chest. The yolk slowly dripped down his shirt, leaving a damp trail.

Dave busted out laughing. “You did not just throw an egg at me!”

Klaus smiled devilishly. “No,” he agreed. He picked up another egg and threw it, this time at Dave’s left shoulder. “I threw _two_.”

Dave dropped the bag of sugar onto the island, causing it to tip over and spill out. He chased Klaus around the island, trying to grab the egg carton. “Give me that!” he said, sounding like a dog owner whose pet just picked up a piece of trash.

“No way!” Klaus cackled, holding the carton tightly to his chest. The sound of their laughter was so loud that they couldn’t hear the click-clack of high heels coming down the hallway.

“How’s the cake coming?” Grace called from the hall. Klaus and Dave froze, looking like a couple of deer in headlights.

“Uh,” Klaus said. “Good?”

Grace came into the room and surveyed the area. Sugar crystals covering the floor, oil on the kitchen island, bits of eggshells on the ground, and flour coating almost every surface imaginable. She blinked in surprise.

“We-we’ll clean up the mess, ma’am,” Dave said apologetically. Klaus nodded, backing him up.

There was a beat, then Grace shook her head and smiled fondly.

“Boys will be boys,” she said indulgently as she walked back out of the room.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone feels like baking a cake, this is the recipe that was referenced:  
> https://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/southern-red-velvet-cake-recipe-2011892


End file.
